


Not Exactly White Day Material

by keilotus (lotusk)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Conversations, Co-workers, Coffee Shops, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, White Day, this is so super late for Kurotsuki White Day but here goes nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 02:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/keilotus
Summary: Someone leaves a White Day gift for Kei at the coffee shop where he works and he doesn't know what to make of it."What's that?" a familiar voice asks and Kei has to resist the urge to turn around and scowl at his co-worker. Kuroo Tetsurou is two years older, two years hotter and two years more unattainable. Kei tries not to look at him at all if he can help it."Some White Day prank." Kei shrugs with as much indifference as he can manage. it's not easy to do when Kuroo is standing just inches away. He can hear him breathe, he's so close.  He can smell the traces of his citrusy aftershave mingled with the aroma of coffee. He can imagine Kuroo dragging his hand through his black, impossibly spiky hair as he watches Kei with that enigmatic, half-lidded stare. He can feel. . .ugh so many things.And he hates it. He hates that he's so aware of Kuroo Tetsurou and everything he does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing kurotsukki and I hope I did an okay job of showing how crazy Tsukki and Kuroo are about each other. Also my first time writing Haikyuu! fic so I hope you guys will give this story a chance <3
> 
> A huge thanks to Amber for answering my dumb questions and for just being a great friend!

_high on diesel and gasoline, psycho for drum machine_  
_shaking the bits to the hits—_

The words and driving beats of the Suede song fill the coffee shop, melting away some of Kei’s stress. Tuesday nights at the coffee shop are typically on the quiet side but it’s White Day today, so things have been crazy hectic. His feet ache from working the floor for hours and his arms are sore from transporting tray after tray of coffee-filled mugs and dishes of cake and pastries. 

The coffee shop is deserted now except for Kei and two of his co-workers. The last customers had walked out fifteen minutes ago and they’re almost done with clean-up. He’s so distracted by how tired he feels that he almost misses it—the square, silver box sitting on the corner of the cashier counter. It's a 4 x 4 inch box with a card attached. Just a plain white rectangle adorned with nothing but a single character. . .蛍.

A flash of annoyance curls in his gut. No one calls him Kei except his parents and older brother. Even Yamaguchi, his best friend of ten years, doesn't call him by his given name. He’s annoyed but he’s also curious. It’s on the edge of the cashier counter so it could have been anyone. A co-worker or customer. Literally _anyone_.

"Absolute last bus in four and a half minutes. See you guys tomorrow." Tanaka gives a jaunty wave before striding out, the glass door swinging shut behind him. The coffee shop descends into silence now that the irrepressible Tanaka Ryuunosuke has taken his energy out into the street with him.

Kei stares at the box for a few seconds before letting his fingertip glide across the smooth paper, over the black ink of the kanji. Who is giving him a box of who-knows-what for White Day? Why would anyone even give him anything?

Maybe it's a prank. It's not like he's someone people would get a crush on. Too sarcastic. Too unfriendly. Too salty. Too tall. Too unattractive. It has to be a prank. And suddenly he doesn't want to open the box anymore. He sticks his hands into his pockets. 

"What's that?" a familiar voice asks and Kei has to resist the urge to turn around and scowl at his co-worker. Kuroo Tetsurou is two years older, two years hotter and two years more unattainable. Kei tries not to look at him at all if he can help it.

"Some White Day prank." Kei shrugs with as much indifference as he can manage. It's not easy to do when Kuroo is standing just inches away. He can hear him breathe, he's so close. He can smell the traces of his citrusy aftershave mingled with the aroma of coffee. He can imagine Kuroo dragging his hand through his black, impossibly spiky hair as he watches Kei with that enigmatic, half-lidded stare. He can feel. . .ugh so many things.

And he hates it. He hates that he's so aware of Kuroo Tetsurou and everything he does.

"What makes you think it's a prank?" He sounds genuinely curious and goddamnit, how can he smell this good after a killer eight-hour shift? It has to be some kind of crime. 

Kei snorts. "I'm not exactly White Day material."

"Who do I need to beat up for saying that?" There is unexpected fire in Kuroo's words and Kei can't help the thrill of sensation running up his spine.

"Me, I guess?"

"Yeah, well. I can think of a lot of things I want to do to you but beating you up is not on that list, idiot." Kuroo gives him a lazy wink. 

Kei's mind is reeling with questions. What are the things Kuroo wants to do to him? Why does he even have a list? Is Kuroo making all this shit up or is he legit flirting with him? But why would someone as hot as Kuroo waste his time flirting with a nerd like him? Kei has so many questions but in the end, all he says is, "Thanks. I think?"

"Why won’t you open the box?" Kuroo nudges his shoulder with his own. When had he stepped so close to him?

“Because it’s a goddamned prank.” 

“What if it’s not? Just open it, Tsukki.” 

“Don’t want to.” He crosses his arms in stubborn defiance and Kuroo sighs. He leans in front of Kei and reaches for the box. Kuroo’s scent is intoxicating and his arm brushes against Kei’s side, igniting warm tingles beneath his skin. He wants to step back, to get away from the fire. But he doesn’t want Kuroo to think he’s rattled by his proximity so he stays where he is, and tries to remember how to inhale, exhale, inhale. 

“Are you gonna open it or do you want me to do it?” Kuroo has a half-smile on his face as he offers the box to Kei. 

“How about we just leave it right where it is, lock up and go home?”

“Someone put a lot of thought and effort into this so you owe it to them to at least check out the gift.” Kuroo’s tone is insistent and Kei makes a token protest about how it’s probably full of wasabi cookies or seaweed muffins or something equally gross.

“Just open the damned thing, Tsukki!”

“Fine,” Kei grunts before snatching the box from Kuroo. He pauses and counts to two, then he pulls the lid off in one swift move. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting but it definitely isn’t a miniature strawberry shortcake. A perfectly round, perfectly beautiful strawberry shortcake spilling over with strawberries. A perfectly round, perfectly beautiful strawberry shortcake that is about as far from a wasabi cookie or seaweed muffin as it’s possible to get.

“Well? What did they give you?” Kuroo’s voice is oddly subdued.

“Strawberry shortcake.” Sounding as confused as he feels, Kei continues to stare at the tiny confection in the silver box. “I. . .how did they know?”

“You always stare, you know? When there’s strawberry shortcake in the display fridge, you stare at it,” Kuroo says quietly. “And I gave you half of that leftover slice once and you actually smiled a little. I mean a real smile. Not one of your usual, cool almost-smiles.”

“I—” Kei is at a loss for words. Is the cake a White Day gift from Kuroo Tetsurou?

“Anyway, I’m not wrong about that, right? You like strawberry shortcake?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Kei is still standing there, frozen, with the box cupped in his large hand. 

Kuroo smiles and it’s different from his usual lazy smiles or smirks and Kei’s heart skips a beat. “I’m glad there’s something out there that you honest-to-goodness like, Tsukki.”

“Kei. You can call me Kei. I mean. . .yeah—” His voice trails off awkwardly and Kei places the box back on the counter because he’s not quite sure what else to do. 

“I’ve always thought the name Kei suits you.” Kuroo gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. It’s the lightest of touches so Kei doesn’t get why his heart is beating so fast.

“It’s a dumb name.”

“But fireflies are such beautiful things. They give off their own light and well, you kind of do that too,” Kuroo explains in a calm voice, like it makes all the sense in the world.

Kei gives a snort of disbelief. “What light? You’ve got it all wrong. My soul is blacker than the ristretto Sugawara-san makes.” 

“I disagree but let’s argue about this some other night. Why don’t you have some of that cake?” 

“This cake—”

“Yeah?”

“Is it a gift from you?”

“Ah, that.” Kuroo sighs, the fingers of his right hand cupping his nape. “I was hoping to keep that a secret for a while longer, but I’m afraid it’s me. Guilty as charged.”

“Are you giving it to me because we work together? Like a _giri-choco_ kind of thing? Or is it—?”

“I um. . .didn’t give Tanaka or Sugawara-san any strawberry shortcake, if that’s what you mean.” For the first time in the two years he’s known Kuroo, the other man looks unsure of himself. Kei doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know the right words to say. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Kei speaks up.

“Look, why don’t we finish locking up? Then we can head to the park across the road and share this. I don't think anyone will notice if a plastic fork goes missing.”

Relief washes over Kuroo’s features as he nods and agrees to Kei’s suggestion.  
  


♥

  
  
Kei’s mouth is full of delicate, creamy sponge cake and his chest, full of the best kind of warmth. He’s being utterly ridiculous but he swears that after his second bite of the cake, his feet and arms had stopped aching, even though they’d been ready to fall right off just fifteen minutes earlier.

“This cake is good,” Kei says very simply. No frills. He’s never liked words much so he only says what he means or he keeps the words hidden away where they’re safe. He hands the shared fork back to Kuroo and his eyes can’t help drifting to Kuroo’s mouth as it slides over the tines of the fork—the same fork that had been in his own mouth just moments ago. 

“I’m just glad I didn’t pick the wrong cake,” Kuroo grins.

Kei leans back against the wooden park bench and stretches his legs out. “This is so weird.”

“What’s weird? Us eating cake together? Us sharing a fork?”

“Just us being anywhere that isn't the coffee shop, to be honest.”

“About that—” Kuroo lets his sentence trail off and anxiety winds its way through Kei’s gut. He can't bring himself to look at Kuroo so he focuses all his attention on cutting another chunk of strawberry shortcake, watching distractedly as the fork cleaves through the soft, buttery sponge. 

“Yeah?”

“I've wanted us to do that for like the longest time, you know? Like just hang out anywhere that isn't the coffee shop,” Kuroo says, his voice unexpectedly soft. Then Kei’s body tenses as a sudden, warm weight settles against his shoulder. The faded scents of citrus and coffee curl around him and he closes his eyes, wondering for just a second, if this is what being in heaven feels like. 

“I never knew you wanted to hang out,” Kei says at last and Kuroo chuckles. 

“I was trying real hard not to be too in-your-face about it. Especially when you didn’t seem interested in hanging out at all.”

“It’s not that I wasn’t interested. I just. . .didn’t think you were.” Kei stares up at the sky. It’s not a clear night but he can see random chips of starlight, and the faint outline of the full moon as it glows from behind a bank of clouds. 

“Would you wanna maybe catch a movie sometime? Or play paintball or have hot dogs by the bay or something?” Kuroo is watching him but Kei isn’t quite ready to meet his stare. Not just yet.

“I’ve never played paintball but movies and hot dogs by the bay sound good. I guess.” Kei tries to sound all nonchalant and Kuroo laughs. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes. You know that, right?” 

“Whatever.” Kei shrugs and hands him the black plastic fork. 

Kuroo takes the last chunk of cake before putting the fork and the box down. Smirking, he says, “You know, according to shouju mangas, when you share a fork or a spoon, it’s like having an indirect kiss. So us sharing this cake is kinda like an indirect kiss.”

Kei snorts. “Indirect kisses are a cop out. Only real kisses count.”

“Oh yeah?” Kuroo’s eyes spark with interest. 

“That wasn’t a hint!” Kei protested, holding a hand out.

Kuroo smacks his palm over the left side of his chest. “You’re breaking my heart, Kei.”

It’s the first time Kuroo has ever called him by his first name. Kei expects it to feel like all kinds of weird but it doesn’t. It just feels good. Hearing his name enunciated in Kuroo’s deep, teasing voice feels really good. And Kei finally turns to look at the man sitting right beside him on the wooden bench in the deserted park. He takes in Kuroo’s strong, angular jaw and his lazy smile, his intelligent eyes.

“Why me?” Kei asks— _simply_ , because that’s the only way he knows how.

“Because I want to get to know you, to understand you. We’ve worked together for two years but you show so little of yourself and that should probably have put me off but. . .Oh God. I’m explaining myself so badly. I just—I care about you and you’re so beautiful and I just want to kiss you so bad.” Kuroo groans in frustration and it’s too dark to tell, but it looks like he might be blushing. 

Kei hesitates, thinks, hesitates. Then he decides that a chance like this may never come again. Holding his breath, he places his right palm over the back of Kuroo’s left hand, and says, “So kiss me.” 

“You mean that?”

“Unless you’re happy with the lame kiss you get from sharing a fork with m—” But Kei never gets to finish what he’s saying because Kuroo leans in and kisses him. His senses are filled with Kuroo, the gentle press of his lips and the subtle flicks of his tongue. When Kuroo’s hand settles over his nape, Kei’s lips part and the Kuroo’s tongue sweeps into his mouth and then they’re kissing for real. Kuroo’s kiss tastes salty and sweet and tangy like strawberries and Kei can’t get enough. 

“Damn,” Kuroo says softly when the kiss ends. “That sure tasted better than strawberry shortcake.” 

“I told you indirect kisses were lame,” Kei retorts with a half-smile.

“Could be a fluke. I mean it was just one kiss. Hardly enough to form a theory on.” His tone is teasing as he links his fingers with Kei’s. His hand is large and warm and a perfect fit for his.

“Are you angling for another kiss, Kuroo?” 

“We just swapped spit. Don't you think it's time you called me by my first name?”

“But I’m used to calling you Kuroo,” Kei grumbles.

“You could get used to calling me Tetsurou or Tetsu, too.”

“Maybe.” Kei gives a noncommittal shrug. There’s no need to make things _too_ easy for Kuroo Tetsurou, after all. 

“I guess I need to work harder at convincing you, huh?”

“I guess you do,” Kei says and then they’re leaning into each other’s personal space as their mouths meet in a tender kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally did it! I finally wrote my first ever kurotsukki fic. It's something i've wanted to do for the past six months but I never had the time to do it till now? I'm a little panicky about posting this but well. . .here goes nothing!
> 
> Comments and kudos are very much loved and I hope you'll let me know what you think! You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kurokeiren/) or [tumblr](https://keilotus.tumblr.com/).


End file.
